“He was in Chicago while I was there. We spent the week together and it was?—”
“Magical.” Annie supplied the word and Amy knew it was one she’d used to describe her first week on Farpoint with Hunter.
“Exactly.” Amy didn’t bother to deny it. “And stupid. I should never have let things go so far. I knew how they were going to end.”
Hazel took her hands, tugging until Amy faced her more fully. “You didn’t do a bloody thing wrong. Your willingness to open yourself up to life, to even risk heartbreak, is one of the things I admire about you, Amy. Ask yourself this. If you had it all to do over again, knowing what you know now, would you do it?”
“Hell yeah.” Amy didn’t even need to think about the response.
“Then it wasn’t wrong, Amelia Wesson. You’ll take some time, lick your wounds and you’ll find a way to move on because you’re smart, strong and brave.”
A tear escaped before Amy could hold it back. She blinked rapidly, letting Hazel’s words soothe her.
“I’m smart, strong and brave.” Amy repeated the words, hoping that by speaking them aloud, they would take root.
“Just keep saying that.”
“And if you want to fall apart or need a friendly ear, we’ll be right here,” Annie offered.
Amy smiled through her tears, grateful for her friends. No, the Sullivans had become family to her somewhere over the years. And despite that, she couldn’t shake the emptiness looming inside her.
Smart, strong, brave. She wanted to believe that, but one word rang out louder.
Alone.
* * *
Andrew stepped out of the helicopter and took a deep breath. Yep. Australia still smelled like fucking Vicks VapoRub. Funny thing was he didn’t mind as much this time. It made him think of Amy.
He smiled. Amy. He was so close to her now. Finally.
He saw a dust cloud coming down the road, kicked up by a truck. Obviously his arrival hadn’t gone unnoticed. Not that he’d expected it to. Sort of hard to sneak onto a ranch by way of helicopter.
He still couldn’t quite believe he was here. He’d gone back to work four days ago, meeting with the producers ofOff the Beaten Path. As his paradise isle was still recovering from the monsoon, they’d needed to come up with an alternate location to shoot next.
For two days, Andrew pushed hard for Australia, using every ounce of persuasion in his body. Then, just when it looked like he was going to lose, the show’s executive producer, Georgia Drake, asked to speak to him privately. She’d tilted her head and asked him what the hell was in Australia.
Like a lovesick fool, he’d confessed. And, to his surprise, he’d discovered that his ball-busting producer was a hopeless romantic at heart. She’d gone to bat for him and now he was here—on the cable company’s dime—facing an even harder battle.
The truck pulled up to the tarmac and two men emerged. He recognized Amy’s two best friends, Marc and Keith, as they walked toward him. She’d shown him pictures of the men one night over dinner, cracking him up with stories about their childhood pranks. He nodded when they came to a stop in front of him.
The taller of the two men spoke first. “I’m Keith Munroe and this is Marc Thompson.”
Andrew stuck out his hand. “I’m Andrew Shaw. Harper’s brother.”
“Yeah. We kinda figured that,” Marc said, accepting his handshake.
“I understand my sister has been visiting here.”
Keith crossed his arms. “Listen. While we respect a guy looking out for his sister, Harper’s a woman now and more than capable of taking care of herself.”
Andrew was surprised by Keith’s defense of Harper. His initial thought was that they were the first line in keeping him away from Amy. “I know Harper can take care of herself.”
“Is that right?” Marc asked.
Andrew struggled to understand what the fuck was going on. The men appeared to be as protective of his sister as he was. He wasn’t sure whether he should be grateful they’d looked after her or insulted that they seemed to consider him a threat.
“I didn’t come for Harper.” Andrew wasn’t sure why he was explaining himself to these two jackaroos or stockmen or whatever the hell they were.